


Experience

by SilverIcyHeart



Series: Legends of the Blessed [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters: HeartGold & SoulSilver | Pokemon HeartGold & SoulSilver Versions
Genre: A+ Parenting, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Anyone can die, Coming of Age, Gen, Nuzlocke, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, pokemon can die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-06-11 22:58:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15326259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverIcyHeart/pseuds/SilverIcyHeart
Summary: Cora has wanted to be a Pokemon trainer for years. Despite her mother's on-again-off-again parenting and setbacks thrown in her way by the grumpy Professor Elm, she's done everything she can to prepare. Now, with her new friends, she's going to discover secrets even she never knew about herself and her abilities.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, this is my first Nuzlocke, so keep in mind, I don't completely know what I'm doing. The pacing will be slow at first, but I have big plans. Anyways, normal Nuzlocke rules, plus a new one: Don't buy anything that comes in a spray bottle. This includes potions and repels. This will hopefully update every Tuesday.

“Are you a boy, or a girl?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You honestly can't tell?” 

Professor Elm gave me a withering look over his clipboard. Over his shoulder, I could see Ethan shaking with barely contained laughter. “Of course I can, but I’m legally obligated to ask you that question. So, which one?”

I told him I was a girl, and he marked it down.

“What's your name and how do you spell it?”

“Cora.” I spelled it out for him, and he gave a sharp huff and stalked off to print my trainer ID.

It was strange that as long as I’d lived here, I’d never actually been inside of the lab. Sure, I’d lived here for almost three years now, but the lab was the small town equivalent of a dark, forbidden forest: you just didn't go there without good reason. It was like something out of a sci-fi novel, filled with machines that I could only guess at the purpose of. Of course, none of them had the flashing lights and impressive beeps of a low-budget film, but somehow that made it even more intimidating.

Ethan, however, looked fascinated. “Come look at this,” he said excitedly, beckoning me over to something that looked like a...nevermind, I wasn’t even going to try and guess. Some sort of skeletal box thing with bars and motors and other parts I didn't have names for.

“What is it?”

“A 3D printer. It's a really nice one, too…” He started talking about stuff like filament retraction and torque and melting point, while I mostly nodded along. It's not that I didn't care, but technology is definitely Ethan's thing, not mine. I tried my best to look like I knew what he was talking about until Professor Elm came back.

“Here.” He roughly tossed a Pokeball to me, which I barely caught. “It's a Cyndaquil. Treat it well, come back and use the healing machine if you need to, and let it walk outside the Pokeball. Got it?”

“Don't I get to pick? I was hoping for the grass--”

“You can't handle it,” he said bluntly. “Nine times out of ten, a kid like you gets a grass type, it dies in battle. And then they come whining back to me that their starter died, and expect me to give them a new one and make it all better because they were too lazy to grind a few levels before the gym. Just because you want your Pokemon to be a hippie like you doesn't mean that’s going to get you anywhere in life. This little guy's got a type advantage over three gyms and an actually decent movepool-- you're welcome.”

He turned abruptly to Ethan, who looked startled at being put on the spot like that. “Your Marill classifies as an alternative starter, like an Eevee or Pikachu. Congrats, you already have your starter Pokemon. Your trainer ID is on top of the printer. Have fun and don't die.”

He strode back to his computer, leaving us to gawk like stranded Magikarp. It was hard to tell who was more surprised at his bluntness-- I definitely hadn't been expecting that level of honesty from Professor Elm. Then again, Ethan had lived in New Bark all his life, and I’d only moved here three years ago, so he was probably even more surprised.

“Oh, and Cara?”

“ _ Cora, _ ” I corrected him automatically. Seriously, three years and he didn’t even bother.

“If I cared how to pronounce your name, I would have asked.” He threw a paper bag over his shoulder at me, which I was ready for this time and somehow managed to catch without dropping the Pokeball. “I need you to run an errand for me. Here’s some potions and your ID. And don’t be afraid to use medicine on your Pokemon-- I don’t care if you’re morally against Potions, that Cyndaquil is a weakling and will die unless you heal it regularly.”

“I’m only against  _ buying _ them, not using--” I started, but Elm cut me off.

“Makes no difference to me. Listen, an old acquaintance of mine keeps bothering me about his weird discoveries and won't leave me alone until I look at whatever he found, so I’m sending you to pick it up and bring it back to me. Go there and back without killing your starter, and I’ll know you can be trusted to catch other Pokemon and train them safely. Until then, I’m restricting your license to battle only. Deal?”

“Wha-- no!” I protested. “Don't I have a legal right to pick my own starter and have my license unrestricted? I’ve been waiting for this my entire life!”

Something changed in his face, the shadows growing darker and more pronounced in his scowl. “Yeah, well, kids had a legal right to catch as many Pokemon as they wanted three years ago, and look where it got them. The Nuzlocke Accords were put in place for a reason: to keep Pokemon from being slaughtered in battle. Just because it was legal to do so back then didn't make it right. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

_ That you're trying to justify your use of child labor and failing? _   “Fine. Where does he live?”

“Just north of Cherrygrove, but come back to heal your Pokemon. If you leave now, you should be able to complete the run in a day. Oh, and you!” He beckoned to Ethan, who took an involuntary step back. “Oh, come on. I don't bite, I just need to do a physical examination of your Pokemon to make sure it's battle-ready.” 

Ethan followed him reluctantly, giving me a sort of apologetic half smile over his shoulder. I was too shocked to return it, just stood there numbly with my new and unwanted Cyndaquil hanging halfway out of my hand.

“You’re honestly…” I trailed off. This was really happening, wasn’t it? I’d already waited two years for something most kids had at age ten, and then I was forced into taking a Pokemon who was probably some generic pyro instead of a grass type. On top of that, Elm still didn’t trust me to catch a Pokemon without running off to pick up some weird science package from his acquaintance. (I imagined he used the word acquaintance instead of friend on purpose; he didn’t seem the type to have actual friends.)

I sighed, and headed home to pick up my backpack. Today was not going how I’d expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for Elm's beginning question: keep in mind that Johto is a fairly conservative region, and Cora grew up sheltered.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora's mother is introduced.

My mom was in the basement when I got home, as usual. “How’d it go?” she asked, looking up from the keyboard.

“Not great.” I started to explain how Ethan hadn’t really gotten a starter, I hadn’t really gotten to pick mine, and my license was still restricted until I could somehow prove my worth. “It just...it feels like my life still isn’t mine, you know? He's been a control freak since the day I arrived-- back when I was nine and really excited about moving away to get a Johto starter instead of a Kanto one. And then on my tenth birthday I thought I would go, but he said I should wait for Ethan to turn ten. So I thought,  _ okay, he's only a year younger than I am, and my only friend here, so I don't want to go on my journey alone.  _ Then the next year Elm went on some tangent about how they do it better in Alola then tried to tell me to come back next year and made the security guard drag me out when I wouldn't go.”

“You’ve always been a wanderer, though,” she placated. “Remember the time you stayed out in the woods for the night because you said the tree was really comfy?”

“Yeah...” I couldn't see what this had to do with anything.

“Cora, listen to me.” She shut the lid of her laptop and stood up, looking me directly in the eyes as best she could with our height difference. “You’re going to realize this more as you grow up, but not everyone has the same wild spirit as you. Maybe Elm is being cautious because he doesn’t know you, but you’re going to have to be patient with him.”

“He doesn’t make it easy to be patient.”

“I know. But the older you get, the more you realize that not everyone is going to understand you. And sometimes, you just have to get through it in order to do what you love. Do you think you can do this for me?”

I realized I was being childish and sulky, but at the same time, wasn’t sure I was ready to let it go. Something about the way Elm has treated me so dismissively had lodged in my pride and stayed there. “All right...”

“That’s my girl.” She kissed the top of my head, then sat down. “Can you warm up dinner and pack? I’ll be up as soon as I finish this scene. I’m killing someone off, and I want to make it good.”

“I will, thanks.” I headed upstairs, leaving the trapdoor conspicuously open. Don't get me wrong; I love my mom, but some days she needed a reminder to take a break from writing. Okay,  _ most  _ days. Sometimes I felt like I was the one doing all the parenting in this family.

I went through the usual motions of making dinner, setting out bowls and heating up the stove to make soup. It occurred to me then, as I was setting the table, that I wouldn't be home for a long time. I’d be living on the road, eating whatever I could find on the road or get from Pokemon Centers. The thought that I wouldn't be eating from my old blue plate with its map of scratches that looked like different Pokemon depending on how you looked at it was immensely saddening, for some reason I couldn't quite explain.

Well, then. I’d just have to make tonight count. I put away the bowls and soup and instead got out the plates and a homemade packet of noodles we’d been saving since the spring for a special occasion, as well as ingredients for grilled cheese. 

As I worked, I couldn't help but wonder what Ethan was doing. We’d planned this for years--we’d get up early, I’d get a Chikorita and he’d get the Cyndaquil, we’d pick names for them and catch our first Pokemon together… Instead, he was stuck with the same irritating Marill he’d won at Trainer's school, the one Pokemon I didn't like. And for good reason: Marill peed on everything and everyone he didn't like, including me. Maybe that list included Elm; I smiled as I imagined his reaction.

Footsteps tapping up the old stairs told me that mom had finished writing that scene early; she came up behind me and took over the noodles, leaving me the half of the stove with the skillet. “We’re having a real dinner tonight, huh?”

“Yep. Two things on a plate, and no microwave involved. How was writing?”

“Justin’s dead,” she said casually. “I think it was one of my stronger death scenes, but I’m going to be prepared for backlash. He was a fan favorite.”

I flipped the grilled cheese, trying to remember who Justin was. Probably either new to this draft or recently introduced. “Mm. Was he the one with red hair?” 

“Nah, that was a different one. Justin was the sweet and sort of strange one who liked spelunking. I don’t think I gave him a hair color, but he was really pale from spending all that time underground.”

“Oh, _ that _ Justin.” He’d been a fairly minor character the last time I’d proofread, and hadn't even been given a name. I kind of imagined his hair would be the same color as that really nice dark chocolate.

We had a long-standing joke about hating descriptions of hair as “chocolate brown” since so many colors and types of chocolate were in existence. For example, my hair was more of a semi sweet color, while hers was the exact shade of milk chocolate. Somewhat ironic, since I ate only dark chocolate and she liked semi sweet chocolate the best.

Or maybe I was just thinking of chocolate because I was hungry. Yeah, that was probably it. By this point, our sandwiches were done, so I transferred each to its respective plate and washed my hands at the sink. My mom joined me a moment later, just a beat behind in our cooking rhythm. It fit so well that it was almost like we’d planned it that way-- I washed my hands while she brought food to the table, I dried as she washed, I sat down just as she was heading over.

Absently, my hand reached under the table to the Pokeball in my pocket, where my new Cyndaquil was. It was unexpected, and not what I had been hoping for, but it was finally mine. Maybe… 

“Hey mom… can I talk to you about something?” I asked in a small voice. “Just… lately, since I’m old enough to leave and go on my journey, I’ve been...” I took a breath, then another. Waited for her to sit down. “I’ve been wondering about my father.”

I could tell already from her sharp intake of breath, the way her eyes widened for just a split second before narrowing defensively, that she hadn’t been expecting it. “We’ll talk when you’re older, Cora.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“And that’s still my answer.”

I didn’t meet her eyes, but I knew they held the same hardened look as they always did whenever anyone brought up my father, like an overcast day. There weren’t any pictures of him in the house, or any official papers, or even possessions that might have been his. The only evidence that he’d even existed was the wedding ring she kept in a box in her room, and even that was never taken out. I knew that my mom didn't want him to be part of my life, but that was all. She'd never even told me why he left, or if he was still alive.

Well, soon it wouldn't even matter. I finished as quickly as I could, the clinking of my silverware in a dissonant rhythm to hers. And to think we’d been so in sync just minutes ago, before I’d asked.

I washed my plate and was halfway up the stairs when a thought struck me: what if I met my father on my journey? Johto wasn't that big of a region; it was possible to just find people without knowing where they were. Would I even recognize him, though? I had a vague idea of genetics from my fourth grade science teacher, made only slightly more precise by Ethan’s “I want to be a genetic therapist” phase. Still, I knew enough to know that there was a huge margin of error when it came to chance.

The one thing that I could say for sure was that he would have the same eyes as me. That would have to be enough.


	3. Chapter 3

I packed my things quickly into the new canvas backpack my mom had gotten me just for the occasion. It was bigger on the inside and had cost more than we could afford, but hopefully I’d be able to pay it off soon with prize money. The fact that I wouldn't be buying any potions would definitely help with costs, but I’d have to do a lot more running back and forth to the Pokemon Center. Fun. Speaking of which…

The Pokeball had been practically burning a hole in my pocket all day, and now my fingers drifted yet again to close around it. I took it out and ran my thumb back and forth over the button, wondering. Technically it would be considered a fire hazard, but seeing as it was bred and raised within the starter program, it was probably well-trained. And as much as Professor Elm was a jerk, I doubted he would give me a Pokemon that couldn't control its own power. So…

“Oh, what the heck. Alright, come on out!” I pressed the button, and the sphere popped open with surprising force to release a red light, which then congealed into a Cyndaquil.

The Pokemon honestly looked like it had tried out for a shampoo commercial, but had been rejected because the advertising company thought it was too edgy. Maybe it was the Cyndaquil’s fur, which was the longest I’d ever seen on a trainer’s Pokemon, or the fact that it had a tuft of fur that looked like sidebangs dyed bright orange.  Either way,  _ I  _ thought it was adorable. 

“Hello there,” I said softly, crouching down so it could see me. A gesture made mostly useless by the fact that the Cyndaquil’s eyes were still squinted shut, but still. I tried. “I’m your new trainer, little one. What's your name?”

“Little one?” The Cyndaquil, which sounded like a male, looked amused at that. “I'm probably twice your age, and my name’s Niko. Not that you’d know,” he added under his breath.

...I hadn’t exactly planned on how to explain how I could understand Pokemon to every new member that joined my team. Somehow, all of my becoming-a-trainer fantasies had just skimmed over that part. How would I hide it? I knew from a childhood full of fantasy novels that the masquerade could never last, that living a lie every day would eventually catch up to me. Still, maybe if I avoided civilization, or got myself a Pokeset to maintain plausible deniability, I could continue a little while longer.

Instead of explaining, I just watched the Cyndaquil wander through my room. He sniffed everything from my dirty socks (he recoiled quickly from those) to the pile of twigs and leaves I’d combed out of my hair after exploring last night. It was soothing in a way, just watching. He wasn't in any hurry to battle, or train, he was just chill.

...Unlike a certain grumpy scientist who wouldn't allow me full trainer privileges until I got that errand over with. I groaned, and stood up. But how to explain to the Cyndaquil…

“To Distortion with it,” I muttered, knowing this wouldn't go well whichever way I tried. To the Cyndaquil, I said, “Hey, Niko, right? We kinda need to go on an errand.”

He did a double take straight into my copy of  _ A Trainer's Guide to Type Matchups. _ “You what? How did you…” 

I helped him up, and after a brief hesitation packed the book as well. “You just told me. And yes, I can understand you. I know, it’s unusual, but I was hoping to make it work. So…?”

“You don’t have a translator, or know why this happens?” He started pacing across the floor.

“No, I’ve been able to do it for as long as I can remember, and… Is that a bad thing?” He was starting to worry me; I knew that some fire types heated up when they got agitated, and my house was mostly made of wood.

He stopped and seemed to consider for a moment, then shook out his fur and turned back to me. “No, not necessarily, just… Highly unusual. I knew there were a few humans out there with the gift, I just… I never expected to meet one.” 

I got the feeling that he wasn't telling me everything, but was too excited about finally going on my journey to care. Besides, we were pretty much complete strangers. I hadn't even introduced myself, for Mew’s sake! Although speaking of which, I figured I should probably do that.

“I’m Cora,” I said to the Cyndaquil, sticking out my hand. “And you are…?”

“Niko.” He rubbed his head against my hand. A Pokemon version of a handshake, maybe?

“Welcome to the team, Niko,” I said, with a barely contained grin beginning to spread across my face.


	4. Chapter 4

I took one last look around my room, just to check for anything I’d left behind. I...really didn’t need much, to be honest. I had a change of clothes, pajamas, my brush, and a few training guides, but other than that, everything was provided by Pokemon Centers. I grabbed another pair of socks and a handful of hair ties for good measure, then shouldered my pack.

“All right, I'm ready to go!” I announced. Then a thought struck me. “Can you go down stairs?”

Niko thought for a minute. “If they're taller than me, no. I can just go into my Pokeball for stairs.”

“Or I could carry you,” I suggested. When he only shrugged in response, I took that to be a yes, scooped him up, and carried him down the stairs. His fur was one of the softest things I’d ever felt, rivaled only by my mom’s warmest sweater and the dress I’d worn to--  _ No.  _ I pushed the thought out of my mind.

“You could have easily put me in my Pokeball, you just wanted to hug me, didn't you?” Niko said.

“You're small and warm and fluffy. Who wouldn't?” I hopped down the last two steps, and stopped.

My mom was still in the same spot, scraping her fork around in listless circles around her plate. I remembered our argument with a pang of guilt-- it seemed silly, looking back on it. She was the one who’d supported me, who cared for me, who’d raised me. My father, whoever he was, hadn't contributed much more than the other half of my DNA.

“Hey,” I said softly. 

She glanced up and tried for a smile; I noticed for the first time how much grey was in her hair. Maybe somehow I’d missed it, but she seemed much older and much more tired in that moment. “Hey, Cora. Are you finished packing?”

“Yeah, I’m all done.” I shifted Niko to my other arm. “You should probably eat that before it gets cold.”

She looked down at her still-full plate in surprise. “Right. Of course.” A beat passed, then another. “I set up your account at the bank today to transfer a portion of your winnings back home.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay, on that much income? I know you won’t be buying Potions or anything, but--”

“I’ll be fine, mom!” I snapped, then realized what I had done. I didn't want to leave on bad terms, but…we just couldn't seem to see eye to eye.

“Hey, Cora?” Niko tugged on my sleeve. “Can I meet your mother?”

Probably another Pokemon custom. “Sure. Hey, mom? This is Niko; I don’t think I showed him to you earlier, but I let him out upstairs and explained things to him. Want to hold him?”

“What am I, a teddy bear?” Niko mumbled, but he hopped into her arms without any further complaint.

“Thank you. Aw, isn’t he so fluffy?” She ran her fingers through his fur. Niko looked like he was enjoying it; he leaned into her hand and made a soft almost-purring noise. “Well, I'm sorry you didn't get the Chikorita like you’ve always wanted, but he's  _ awfully _ cute.”

“Wait, you weren't planning to choose me?” Niko’s head snapped up.

“It doesn’t mean that I don’t want you, I just… I just had planned to pick the Chikorita. But apparently I don’t get to pick, because Elm just tossed your Pokeball at me and said I’d be better off using a fire type.”

For some reason, this made him smile. “Heh. Well, I guess Professor Elm isn't as heartless as he pretends to be. It wouldn't have worked out anyway, since Chai's a pacifist. Can we stop by the lab before we leave? I’d like to say goodbye to my friends.”

“Of course.” I then relayed this all to my mom, who nodded and started petting Niko's belly. He rolled over and made a little sound of pleasure. I got the feeling they were both enjoying this too much for me to leave any time soon. On one hand, I understood how that felt; my mom had grown up near Pokemon in a big city, and missed being around them. A few times I’d even brought wild Pokemon home for her to meet by luring them with food. But on the other hand, I  _ did  _ have a lot to do.

“I’m supposed to meet Ethan today before I run an errand,” I said awkwardly.

“Oh.” Her face fell, but only for a moment. “Well, you should go, especially since you’ve been planning this so long. Stay safe, all right?” She looked down at Niko with new seriousness. “I’m counting on you to protect my daughter, Niko.”

I don’t know how he, but somehow Niko kept a solemn face when he said, “I will, ma’am.”

“He says he will.”

“That’s good.” She set Niko down on the floor. “Well, it's rude to keep your friend waiting. Go on, I’ll be fine.”

“All right,” I said, but I wasn't sure I wanted to leave yet. “And, I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“You know, I’ll probably fill up my team fast, even with the Nuzlocke Accords. So maybe once I hit seven members, I could start sending a few Pokemon to stay with you?”

She smiled. “I’d love that. Now go, Ethan's waiting for you!”

Niko followed me out the door for the last time I would leave it in months, but I was only thinking of the way he’d stopped our argument just with his presence. It didn't occur to me until much, much later that he’d done it on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niko is a fluff therapist, I swear.


	5. Chapter 5

Needless to say, Professor Elm wasn't happy to see me back so soon. I tried to explain as best as I could without mentioning that Niko had actually told me, which...didn't go well, to be honest.

“But they’ve known each other for a really long time,” I protested. “I just thought he'd want to say goodbye.”

A strange expression flickered across his face, so quickly I almost missed it. “Yes, the Chikorita’s been with us for almost three years,” he said quietly. “The Cyndaquil and the Totodile have known each other even longer. Tell me, how did you know he wanted to come back?”

He was watching me so intensely, I had a moment of fear that maybe he’d figured it out. I’d only told Mom and Ethan, but what if I hadn't been careful enough? It would only take one little slip, one intern who caught me chatting with a wild Sentret, and he’d know.

Well, time to make stuff up. “Um, you know, he looked so sad!” I held up Niko, who helpfully made a mournful rumbling noise.

Elm sighed and shook his head slowly. “Well, life is full of disappointments.”

“So….no?”

“Disappointments like  _ you _ ,” he corrected. “You’ll probably gripe until you get your way, so you might as well. Go on, if you really want to be a special Spinda. Just don't take too long. The code’s 1-4-9-2, okay?”

“...Thanks?” I was too relieved that Elm hadn't asked too many questions to care about that insult.

He made a noise of disgust and started rummaging through a storage cabinet as if he suddenly had something incredibly important he needed to find. Maybe I was just too disappointing to have in his sight anymore. Gah. 

I found the Pokeball holder quickly, and punched in the code a little harder than strictly necessary. 

“Wow, he  _ really  _ doesn't like you, does he?” Niko commented from behind me. “He's been saving that roast for a special occasion for months.”

“We have history,” I murmured quietly, glancing over my shoulder. Nope, Elm was still distracted by the storage cabinet of utmost importance. What was even in there, his collection of insults he was saving for a rainy day? 

“Must be some history,” Niko said, but I decided not to explain that.

I took both Pokeballs, one in each hand. Through the glass, I could just barely make out the forms of two Pokemon, a Chikorita and a Totodile.  _ What would things be like if I was allowed to choose?  _ I wondered. It wasn't that I didn't like Niko; he was snarky and opinionated, and yet…. I’d always dreamed of having a grass type starter. When I was little, I wanted to pick a Bulbasaur, just like Mom. After the move, I wanted a Chikorita. Planned out my journey with Ethan. And now…

Niko cleared his throat.

Right. I fumbled a moment before releasing both Pokemon at once. It was still a little weird for me to see actual living creatures just appear out of red light, honestly. I mean, I just pushed a little button, light sort of zigzagged out of the Pokeball, and poof! Instant Pokemon.

I knelt down to see better. The first thing both of them did way blink and look around. Then the Chikorita noticed me, and it's eyes widened.

“Niko? Is this your human?” the Chikorita asked, looking first at me, then Niko. I guessed this must be Chai, since Niko had mentioned her earlier. She looked back at me and frowned. “Wait, is it a male or female? I can never tell with humans.”

“It's a female,” the Totodile said, pointing at me. “I think. They usually have much longer hair than the males.”

“Um, guys--” Niko started.

“Yeah, but you can’t always rely on that,” Chai said. “Remember the kid who was looking in the window earlier? You told me that was a  _ male _ . And it had the long hair and everything!”

“Sometimes the males grow their hair out long. You can't just rely on hair length to tell if they're male or female, you have to look for other clues. I think the females sometimes put colored things in their hair, and wear brighter clothes.”

“Well, not this one. It doesn't have any hair things, and isn't dressed as brightly. So how do you know it's a female, and not a male with long hair?”

“Well…” The Totodile paused to think about this, staring at me. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with this.

“ _ Guys _ !” Niko said again, this time more forcefully. “First of all, yes, she is a female. Second, she can understand us.”

I gave an awkward little wave, which didn’t seem to match the situation. Chai was staring at me in horror, and the Totodile (crap, I still didn't know his name) had started to back away. Was my ability really so terrifying? It wasn't  _ that  _ rare, right? I knew a few from reading the news, and suspected a few more from History. It wasn't exactly common, but certainly not unheard of.

“You didn't tell her about the other part of it, did you?” The Totodile asked Niko.

“It's a  _ rumor,  _ Jonathan. She's just a kid! She doesn't need that.”

“No, she needs to know this before something happens to her, or you, or some teammate. It’s not just a rumor, it’s something that actually happens and she needs to be informed before starting a team, or journey, of her own. Do you want her to learn the hard way?”

There was a long moment where they glared at each other; then Niko sighed. “All right. Chai can probably explain it better than-- wait, Chai?” 

Somehow, without any of us noticing, the Chikorita had disappeared. I guessed she didn’t like to be around conflict. I was a little jealous, honestly. It would have been nice to just quietly leave when Jonathan and Niko started arguing about...whatever dangerous thing it was that they were so worried about.

Apparently this was nothing new to either of them, because Jonathan turned to me and tried for a smile that was a little too forced to be believable. “Sorry about that. Must have been kind of awkward, huh?”

I nodded, and the Totodile turned to Niko. “Can it-- I mean, can she talk?”

“Yes, she just doesn't want to do it in front of the Professor,” Niko explained. “I think she kept it a secret-- right?” I nodded again. It seemed ironic that I could communicate so well with Pokemon, yet was reduced to mostly nods because I wanted to keep it private. Freaking Professor Elm.

“Really? Well, why not?”

“She-- ugh.” He blew his fur out of his eyes in an exasperated way. “You know what, how about we meet up back here tonight? We can talk on the porch, and hopefully Chai will be back to explain things. Okay?”

Jonathan nodded. “Sounds good.”

This was about as much awkwardness as I could take for one day. “All right then, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, secrets! Also, Chai is a personal favorite of mine, you'll see more of her later, I promise.


	6. Chapter 6

I walked out of the lab with my head held high, but as soon as the door shut behind me, I started running. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, just... Away. Away from this stupid town with its secretive people and empty promises. Somewhere new. Somewhere I’d never gone before.

_ Just a child. She doesn’t need that. Too dangerous. Only a rumor. _

I ran harder, but the pounding of my feet still couldn’t drown out the echoes. Not even when the tall grass started scratching against my jeans, when Niko started yelling for me to stop.

_ We’ll talk when you’re older, Cora. You’re too young to understand. Maybe next year you’ll go on your journey. I know that’s what I said last time. Someday. _

_ Do you want her to learn the hard way?  _

Was it that hard to just be honest? Everyone just assumed I couldn't handle the truth because I was too young, but it was starting to sound more and more like an excuse to me. 

Gah. I was glad to finally leave it behind, even if today wasn’t…

... _ Holy crap _ . The realization hit me suddenly, sort of like a brick to the head. My stride faltered, then stopped. See, Mom always said I was impulsive, but I’m not sure I ever realized that until I was knee deep in the tall grass where wild Pokemon liked to hide. Aaaaaaand I’d left my starter behind because I was mad at him. Justifiably so, but still. It was surprising I’d made it this far.

“Great job, Cora,” I muttered to myself. “Great thinking.” The anger that had driven me to run off faded, to be replaced with irritation. Even back in Kanto, I knew never to go into the tall grass. It was drilled into every kid’s head, from the day they learned to walk: Pokemon liked to hide in the tall grass because the seeds it dropped were edible, but they were usually agitated when they got interrupted. To the point of attacking the offending human. And I’d just  _ run _ into it!

How was I going to get myself out of this? I looked around for the first time; I was about halfway through the route. Too late to turn back, too far too keep going. At least I’d stopped in a clearing with no tall grass.

I sighed. Something rustled in the grass behind me, maybe a Sentret or something? I could probably bribe it with food if it came to close. That was pretty much my go-to strategy most of the time. My only strategy, now that I thought about it.

Did the rustling get closer? I turned and studied the patch; there was a spot near the back where the grass was parted. “Hello?” I called. No response.

The patch shifted, like something inside it was moving. Then, without warning, it rushed straight at me.

“GAH!” I stumbled back. Shinx, I really shouldn’t have left.  _ Ohshinxohshinxohshinxoh-- _

Something small and fluffy collided with my ankle, nearly knocking me over. We both staggered back, then I got a good look at what hit me. “Niko?”

“You  _ idiot! _ ” He blew fur out of his face and scowled. “Do you have any idea how irresponsible that was?”

“I--”

“No. You don’t.” He started pacing in front of me. “You’re a trainer now, and whatever else that means, trainers and Pokemon take care of each other. You don’t just go running off into Arceus-knows-where without telling anyone, and leave me behind. I get that you're mad at me, but you have responsibilities now. You're not a little kid anymore, and you can't just do whatever you want and not expect there to be consequences. What would I tell your mom if you got attacked, or hurt?”

“I-- I don't know,” I admitted, still recovering from the jump scare he’d given me. “I’ve never gotten hurt, though. Pokemon tend to like me, and--”

“Then what was  _ that  _ all about?” He pointed behind him with one stubby paw. “You just ditched me and ran off for no reason!”

“No reason?” My emotions were starting to rise again. “Listen, I’ve been stuck here for years. Professor Elm wouldn't give me my license until I was  _ twelve _ , for Mew's sake, I'm pretty sure Ethan's dad hates me, you and your friends are keeping secrets from me, Mom won't tell me about-- well, I'm sick of this town!”

He was silent after that. I wanted to ask what he was thinking, or why we couldn't just leave the tall grass already, but something in his expression stopped me. Was he going to yell at me some more, or explain, or what?

“Listen, kid,” he began, “Honestly, Jonathan and I don’t know that much about it. Chai’s the one you should ask; she likes to help Professor Elm with his research, and picks up stuff along the way. She’ll be back by tonight, and then she can explain, okay? I’m not sure about the other stuff, but I get that you had reasons. But your mom asked me to take care of you, and I’m going to take that job seriously. Just don't do anything like that again.”

I could live with that, I guess. “I know, I won't.”

“Good. Come on, we have an errand to run.”


	7. The end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This work is abandoned and discontinued, but that doesn't mean Cora's story is. I still have plans for her.

As the title says, I won't be updating this story anymore. I've lost interest in it, and to some extent, the Pokemon fandom. But I love the characters I created for this. I know I've only posted a little bit of it, but I have bits and pieces of lore all over the place. I had it planned as a trilogy of Nuzlockes, each with a different protagonist. The first was Experience, with Cora; the second was called Liberation, took place two years earlier in Unova, and featured a thief named Liz who liked breaking into restaurants just to steal their pasta. The third was called Investigation, and brought back a lot of the cast from the previous two as supporters for a young boy to travel around in search of the return of team plasma.

So, you might ask, if you're not keeping this, then what will happen?

 I want to make it an original story. It's kind of funny how it started out; I made up a college AU as a joke with my beta reader, and now I want to come back to it. A few names may be changed, a few back stories played with, but now that I'm a better writer than I was, I think I can do my OCs justice.


End file.
